


i've got this feeling in my bones

by Irratia



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: (parent), Asexual Bobby | Trevor Wilson, Bobby | Trevor Wilson-centric, Drinking, Emotionally Repressed, F/F, F/M, Grey-Asexual Alex Mercer, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kinda, M/M, alex is german, asexual willie, funky fresh queer hijinks, he/they willie, i still don't know how to tag anything, so be warned ig, some talk about feelings, touch averse bobby, uuhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29296827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irratia/pseuds/Irratia
Summary: Bobby has issues. He’s aware of that. Everyone he knows a bit more closely is aware of that. It’s really not hard to gather. As Alex once put it regarding Ray: “If he hasn’t figured out that we’ve all got issues yet, then that’s not our fault.”Which is true, but Ray did figure it out, because with the four of them it’s kind of hard to miss. But he still has them. And most of the time they don’t bother him too much, he’s sort of aware of their presence but that’s it.Bobby is also good at resolving issues or problems, for other people, not himself.But this is one thing he can't really get around taking care of himself.
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Bobby | Trevor Wilson/Reggie Peters, Flynn/Carrie Wilson, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 77





	i've got this feeling in my bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [A_Tomb_With_A_View](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Tomb_With_A_View/gifts).



> Hi! Hello! Welcome!  
> This is basically just me stuffing all I know about my lovely friend Meg into Bobby and the word vomiting, so yeah.  
> As I said in the tags, CW because we have some drinking, one reference to alcoholism (specifically parents), touch averse and emotionally repressed Bobby. Also a little talk about anxiety.  
> I hope you enjoy, still!

Bobby has issues. He’s aware of that. Everyone he knows a bit more closely is aware of that. It’s really not hard to gather. As Alex once put it regarding Ray: “If he hasn’t figured out that we’ve all got issues yet, then that’s not our fault.”

Which is true, but Ray did figure it out, because with the four of them it’s kind of hard to miss. But he still has them. And most of the time they don’t bother him too much, he’s sort of aware of their presence but that’s it.

Bobby is also good at resolving issues or problems, for other people, not himself. He can help Alex with his anxiety attacks or when he gets nervous, and Luke with learning a new chord, or Reggie when words don’t make sense for him again. He can help Julie with holding her when the grief for her mum hits her again, and Carrie, when she keeps pushing herself so hard she physically can’t get down the stairs anymore, and Willie when he needs a place to stay after another bad fight with his dad. 

He’s good at looking at a situation, or an issue, and taking the next step, if it isn’t too emotionally charged because honestly dealing with emotions is very much not Bobby’s strength. He knows, in theory, how to react to stuff like that, knows what people want him to do, but really, it doesn’t feel honest and he wants to give his friends - his family - what they deserve, and since he can’t do it that well he just leaves it at an encouraging comment and lets the others do the rest.

And they’re okay with that, they understand. He talks to them, mostly when he’s drunk because alcohol works in mysterious ways that allow Alex to finally shake most of his anxieties, and it loosens Bobby’s tongue enough so that he can allow some emotional competence and vulnerability.

So, in theory, Bobby knows he can tell them that he doesn’t really love touching as much as they do, and he knows they’ll understand. But for most of them, physical affection is their love language and Bobby likes it sometimes, he really does, but the same way Alex’s social batteries run out and he locks himself in the studio to nap or whale on his drums for a few hours, Bobby needs breaks in physical contact. 

He just… sometimes he’s on the couch, cuddling with Reggie and then he can’t, anymore, because it’s too much and too warm and he just needs his own space for a moment. Or sometimes Luke has wrapped himself around his shoulders again, and it’s too heavy, or Alex takes his hand and Bobby doesn’t really love holding hands anyway.

And Bobby doesn’t want to come off like an asshole, but he thinks he might, if he says it outright, because he’s already not really emotionally available to them, and he feels as though him also withdrawing physically might be a breaking point. Subconsciously he knows that that’s not what’s going to happen, but, well. Trauma is not that great at making you trust people, even if you know them better than yourself.

___

  
He starts with Willie, because Willie is scarily empathic and cognizant of other people’s emotions, and also just as ace as Bobby is, so it’s a good place to start. Maybe even more ace, because Bobby doesn’t really have any thoughts about sex apart from not wanting to have it, while Willie is actually and actively repulsed by it. 

He’s drunk, of course, and so is Willie, only a lot more than him. They get fucked up pretty fast but stay consistent with it, at least. Luke has already thrown up once. And then plastered himself all over Bobby, until Julie came to pick him up, and it was just too much today, so Bobby is sitting on the floor in the kitchen sipping on a whiskey. 

“Heyo, Boberto, are you okay?” Willie saunters in, holding onto his cocktail, some sweet fizzy thing Reggie has also been drinking the entire evening. Their hair is a mess and they stagger a bit while walking, obviously struggling with the tiny step down into the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Bobby asks, and snorts as Willie slides down the wall opposite from him, leaning his head back against it, and studying Bobby for a moment. They wave their hand, some of the cocktail sloshing over the rim and onto his hand. Willie licks it off, then focuses on Bobby again. “I’m dandy, this isn’t about me. Do tell, I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.”

Bobby sighs, and lets the back of his head thunk against one of the cabinets. He swirls his whiskey around in his glass, the ice clinking, and filling the kitchen with more noise than the muffled music filtering in from the living room. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“That’s rough,” Willie says slowly, taking a long sip from his cocktail. Bobby nods awkwardly. Willie leans forward again, and gives him an encouraging smile.“Okay, then, let’s start with something easy, yeah? Do you know why you were uncomfortable enough to walk out and sit by yourself in the kitchen? No judgement by the way, I just wanna know if I can help.”

“I… yeah I know why,” Bobby thinks about how to put it into words, without overwhelming Willie, and if they aren’t too drunk for all of this, but they haven’t scooted over to him yet, like they probably would with Alex, and he hasn’t pressed a kiss to the top of his head yet like he does with Reggie when he’s upset, so maybe Willie actually has an inkling.

Alex comes in before Bobby can actually get to saying anything, holding an empty bottle of coke. “Hey you two, everything okay?”

He still doesn’t sound drunk, even though he’s had like, six or somethin vodka and cokes, which he makes strong, as well as some beers but with Alex it really is just anyone’s guess at which point the alcohol hits. Willie hums and grins as Alex steps over him to get to the fridge to get himself a new bottle of coke. “We’re just vibing, babe, just vibing. T’was a bit loud in there, what with Luke and Flynn arm wrestling and all.”

Alex shuts the fridge and nods, shooting a look at Bobby that tells him he knows something’s up as well, but he doesn’t say anything, just smiles in that way that lets Bobby know he’s there if he needs him, and kneels down next to Willie. “Okay, but remember, I’m in the living room if you miss me, and don’t cry, you know Brotbert can’t deal with crying people.”

Willie rolls their eyes but nods, and Alex brushes some strands of hair behind his ears and kisses him on the lips, short and chaste, before straightening back up. “Have fun.”

He disappears again, and Willie grins to himself. “I love this man, so much, jesus fuck,” they say, and Bobby can’t help but smile. Willie is good for all of them, with his open and honest ways, and their immediate competence with Alex. It makes his insides all weird, warm and gooey, to see his best friend so happy. 

“So, what’s on your mind?” Willie stretches out his legs, and levels his gaze back on Bobby. He looks down into his whiskey, then at the ceiling, then at Willie who’s waiting patiently. “Do you- do you ever get tired of like. Kissing?” he finally asks, voice quieter than he thought it would be. Willie nods. “Sure.”

They say it with such nonchalance that it nearly knocks the breath out of Bobby’s lungs. Willie takes another sip of his cocktail, then taps his fingers against the rim of his cup, and starts talking. “I mean, we both don’t like making out, you and I, we know that, it’s just-” they shudder in an overexaggerated gesture that makes Bobby snort. “You know? Not for me, and also not for Alex really, but normal kisses are fine, most of the time. Like just now, that’s fine because it was short and chaste, and I love Alex a lot, and I know he likes kissing, probably more than I do. But sometimes I just don’t want to be kissed on the mouth, or anywhere near it, so, you know. We don’t.”

“And if I- if I never really want to be kissed on the mouth? It’s not… I don’t know it’s not like I hate it. But it’s not like I love it either, and it makes me feel weird because I can’t stop thinking about how weird it is, and it’s just. Not enjoyable. Like, almost all of the time.”

He used to think that that was because he hadn’t found the one yet. Bobby has kissed exactly four people in his life, one of them being Alex, which was weird and uncomfortable for many reasons, the main one being that Alex had been very drunk after stealing a bottle of Jägermeister from his parents after going to Germany over the summer holidays, and that Bobby was very much not in love with him. 

The second kiss, or kisses, really, had also been bad because they were with Anna from school, who he dated for two whole weeks at 15 because she’d asked, and she was pretty. But he’d also not been in love with her, and she’d also wanted to do a lot more than kissing, so that had been over pretty quickly.

Third time’s the charm, only not in Bobby’s case, because Dan from boxing was also very pretty, so he’d agreed on a date, but then Dan had kissed him, and stuck his tongue down Bobby’s throat, and that had been that.

After one failed relationship and one failed date and many months of listening to his boys talk about crushes, he’d sat down and googled, because he did not get crushes, and there must be some explanation for that. 

Demiromantic was the term for him, which was not connected to some big crisis or realization about himself, because yeah, that was him, it fit, so he had that knowledge about himself and could move on to more pressing issues like the fact that he was in love with Reggie, because of course he was. It had always been Reggie. 

That was the only really big, emotional realization Bobby experienced in his life, because that affected more people than him. His coming to realize he’s asexual had not been connected to some big crisis, like Alex had when he realized he was actuall homoromantic grey-asexual instread of homosexual. It was just a thing that fit, and that was that.

And he thought that was fine, and that he didn’t love kissing because of asexuality, but then Willie came into the picture, and was sex-repulsed but still enjoyed kissing Alex, and now Bobby’s sitting in the kitchen of their apartment, staring into space, because just when he thought he’d figured himself out as well as he could, new things came along. 

“Then you tell Reg that, and he’ll understand, and you’ll figure things out.” Willie’s words interrupt the train of thought, and Bobby’s gaze snaps to them. “You know, I know you’re like, emotionally fucked up and can’t talk about your feelings well, which is very okay, by the way. But it’s really not a bad thing, that you don’t like kissing on the lips. Like,” Willie leans forward now, bracing one hand on the tiles. “Society is always all about sex, and making out, and we already say fuck that shit, so it’s totally fine if you also say fuck that shit to lip on lip kisses. I know for a fact that you like it when Alex kisses you on the forehead to say goodnight, so just. Do that?”

“You make it sound way too easy-” Bobby starts, but Willie cuts him off. “No, fuck, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I just meant, it’s probably scary for you because you think Reggie is all about that, but he’s so in love with you he’d never kiss you again if you asked him, and you don’t need to be scared about him like, not liking you anymore. You know? Take all the time you need, but it’s gonna be fine.”

They nod, as if to himself, and grin at Bobby. “You got this, you funky little traumatized gay.”

“You’re smaller than I am!” Bobby protests, but his chest feels a bit tighter now, because yeah, Willie is right. It’s still gonna take him time to actually bring it up with Reggie though. He goes to take a sip of his whiskey.

“Also,” Willie says, leaning back again. “If you’re uncomfortable with us touching you, just give me a signal and I’ll rescue you, until you’re ready to tell everyone you don’t like physical contact all the time.”

Bobby chokes on his whiskey and splutters for a moment. “What?”

“I mean, you came to sit alone in the kitchen after Luke threw himself all over you, and you keep physically distancing yourself from us at times when we’re all very touchy, so. You can just give me a sign or something and I’ll distract them, until you tell them you have a touch battery.”

“I fucking hate that you’re so perceptive, what the fuck.”

Willie grins and winks at him. “Not everyone can be as emotionally stunted and dumb as you lot, so just like, let me be your knight in shing armour or something,” they pause, brows crinkling. “Well, not shining armour because I’m a whole mess and it’s probably really scratchy and muddy, but, you know.”

“You’re the drunk girl in the bathroom, telling me my hair looks pretty while I cry about something,” Bobby says drily, and Willie laughs. “Yeah, that.”

Bobby nods, and so does Willie, and they raise their glasses in a silent toast and sit together for a moment, only some incoherent yelling from the living room filtering through the walls. Bobby fiddles with his glass again, and Willie watches him with his eyes half shut, and a soft smile on their face. “You don’t need to say thank you, Bobby, I know you don’t like getting emotional and shit. But I’m here if you wanna talk, or just sit in silence in the same room, away from each other, and so are Al, and Reg, and Luke, and Jules, and Carrie. Yeah?”

Bobby nods. 

“Cool. I’m starting to miss my boyfriend so I’ll go and cuddle with him now, but like, call me if you want company or something, and I love you.” Willie gets up again, staggering slightly and bracing himself against the doorframe before blowing him a kiss and leaving Bobby in the kitchen, already yelling Alex’s name.

Bobby stays right where he is, with his whiskey, and Willie’s words tumbling around in his brain, a whole confusing mess that makes him feel warm, and kind of relieved inside because he finally told someone, but then again, not all of his friends are as intuitive as Willie and he wants them all to know, he really does, but it’s scary.

So he shoots his whiskey and refills his glass and slowly makes his way back to the living room, leaning in the doorframe to survey all of his idiots for a moment. Luke is sprawled on the couch, with Julie in his lap, who’s carding her fingers through his hair. He looks close to being asleep. Flynn and Carrie are squeezed into an armchair, both with their drinks in hand and chatting, squeezed together along the lengths of their bodies. Willie is giggling into Alex’s shoulder as he carries them to the couch and lets himself fall onto it heavily, before they both of them readjust, so that Willie is still wrapped around his boyfriend, but it's comfortable for both of them.

Warmth creeps back into his chest, not the burning one he gets from whiskey or other shots, the kind of slow and soft warmth that seeps into all the cracks his body and soul has formed over the years, and that fills them up, and makes him feel somewhat whole again, even just for a moment. It’s the kind of warmth his chest always has when he thinks about Reggie, and _oh shit_.

Bobby clenches a hand around his glass, because does that mean he’s in love with all of them? He can’t be, not really, but his chest always gets weird and warm when he thinks about Luke and his stupidly happy smile when they figure out the right melody for a new song together, or when he thinks about Alex dancing and grinning so wide his cheeks hurt from only looking at him, or when he thinks about Julie and how at home she looks on a stage, belting out the lyrics to their songs. And his chest always feels this warm when he thinks about Flynn and when they hug him after a good gig, or when Nick plops himself down onto a pillow next to him, grinning and shaking his head because “Allos, am I right?”.

But his chest also feels warm when he thinks about Carrie, and his dad, and he’s definitely not in love with them, so what the fuck is this? 

He shoves it down, and away, because Bobby has always been good at ignoring the things he doesn’t need to worry about, or doesn’t want to worry about, or just doesn’t want to think about and this is one of them. At some point he’s going to have to examine this, he knows, but it scares him, the amount of feelings attached to all of these people, they’re just… too much, right now. 

He takes a breath, steadies himself and loosens his grip on his glass. Across the room Reggie has plastered himself all over Nick, but is making grabby hands at Bobby. And he kind of doesn’t want to be touched right now, not too much, but he wanders over anyway.

“You good, Bobbers?” Reggie asks quietly, and Nick ignores them dutifully, focusing on Alex instead who downs his glass in one long go, while Willie cheers him on. Bobby nods, then perches on the arm of the couch. Reggie studies him for a moment, cheeks ruddy and flushed with alcohol and his blue eyes shining bright despite the dim lights. He holds out his left hand, and wiggles his pinky at Bobby. “Pinky promise that you are?”

Bobby rolls his eyes and nods, linking their pinkies together. Reggie grins, and pulls their hands to his face, kissing the knuckles of Bobby’s finger slightly. “Seal it with a kiss and all that.”

And then Reggie turns back to Nick, and chats with him, and keeps their pinkies linked, loose enough that Bobby can pull away any second, but still there and it’s… well. Definitely better than holding hands, or being plastered all against his side, for the moment. 

Willie catches his eyes and inclines their head slightly, a knowing smile on his face, absentmindedly wiping some spilled vodka & coke from Alex’s collar bone.

Bobby ignores the bubble of warmth in his chest and lifts his middle finger off his glass slightly.

___

  
Sometimes Bobby comes into the studio when he knows nobody else will be there for a while, just to take a breather and stare at the stairs on the ceiling for an hour without really thinking. He likes to lie on the floor for that, because the cold press of concrete is hard and steady under his back and it grounds him. 

He knows that Alex also comes here to be by himself sometimes, so it doesn’t really take him by surprise when the doors swing open and he hears him step inside. 

“Bad day?” he asks, sitting up. Alex looks okay, mostly, a bit tense, but honestly, when doesn’t he. “Nah, I’m good. I just. Needed some time on my own, you know?”

Bobby nods, getting back up on his feet. “Want me to leave?”

Alex flops down on the couch with a sigh, then sighs. “No, I’m good with you staying.”

Bobby nods slowly, and Alex shuffles, until there’s enough space on the couch for Bobby, but he doesn’t say anything just offers it in silence while fiddling with his fanny pack. Bobby lets himself fall down next to him, not touching, and leans back, staring at the ceiling again.

Him and Alex have always been able to do this. As close as Bobby is with Luke and Reggie, him and Alex have always had this kind of mutual understanding of each other. They’re both incredibly bad at voicing their feelings. Bobby more so than Alex, but with Luke, who pours his love into his songs and touches and just words, an Reggie, who says what he’s feeling without flinching and traces ‘I love you’s’ onto Bobby with every touch and every look he gives him, it’s kind of a relief to have someone who struggles with it too. 

They go way back, because even at eight little Bobby knew that being rude to someone who was obviously nervous was an asshole move, and so he’d punched a guy in his class for making fun of the little blond German kid who stumbled over his words and vowels, and who’s accent was still thick, audible in his quiet words.  
And then he’d punched another kid for pressuring Alex into climbing the tallest monkey bars on the playground, even though it was obvious that he didn’t want to.   
And after the third time Alex had waited for him outside the principal’s office, and asked if they could talk, quiet and obviously intimidated by Bobby’s mum, and had thanked Bobby. “Please don’t punch anyone anymore.”

And Bobby hadn’t. Instead he’d befriended Alex, and the other kids had left him alone, and then they’d met Luke and Reggie who knew each other since kindergarten, and they’d fallen into a rhythm and a dynamic, and while things had been everchanging, Bobby knew he could always count on Alex, and the other way around.

With them growing older, their issues had started becoming more present, and Alex drew back because his anxiety made it hard for him to breathe sometimes, and Bobby stopped inviting them over because his mom became too drunk to handle on a daily basis, and Luke started coming to school with red eyes, and Reggie looked like he hadn’t slept in days. 

And then their sexualities became a thing, and Alex struggled because his parents were assholes, and Bobby found the word asexual and went with it, too consumed with getting to know how to act around his dad and Carrie to really deal with it, and Luke and Reggie dated for a month, which was weird for a multitude of reasons.

And then they met Julie and their dynamics changed again, to the better, because they had a safe space, where they could talk, and play music, and Bobby started inviting them over again, and the boys started sleeping in the guest rooms at Bobby’s place or the studio of the Molina’s so often it was a rarity they talked about their parents. 

And things were… a lot, and feelings were confusing and too much, so Bobby just stopped really thinking about them, but with Alex things stayed the same, despite Bobby and Reggie getting together, and Alex falling for Willie. They still just sat in silence next to each other, just knowing the other was there, and that was enough.

“You know,” Alex says, disrupting what Bobby thought was a known ritual. “Sometimes, when I have bad days, I don’t like getting touched.”

Bobby snaps his head up so fast that it almost hurts, to stare at Alex, who fiddles with his hands in his lap. 

“Like, I know that often my anxiety makes me think you all hate me, and then it helps a lot when you hold my hand or something, and when Willie takes my hand or something when I get really anxious it often helps to just, ground me and calm me down, but I have days where everything is just _too much_ , you know?”

Bobby nods, because the slight edge to Alex’s voice hits home with how he feels sometimes. “You could just tell us that, you know? All of us, and Willie especially, are gonna respect that,” he says.

Alex snorts slightly. “I know, Dummkopf,” he says, softly. “I did, I told Willie about it, and Luke and Reggie too, and before you pretend to be hurt by that because I should have told you sooner, I did that yesterday. I’m trying to get at something here.”

Bobby has a sinking feeling in his stomach as he realizes where this is going. “Allie, is this gonna be some deep heart to heart? Please, you _know_ I don’t do well with that.”

“Sucks to suck,” Alex says drily, before he finally looks up at Bobby. “Look, I know we both dislike being emotionally open and vulnerable with each other, and that you don’t like to feel your emotions because you’re ten thousand shades of fucked up, but I get the emotionally smart brain cell maybe once a year, and instead of telling Willie how much I really feel for them and that I wanna marry him I’m using it for you, so shut the fuck up.”

“Alex-” Bobby starts, but he turns to look him directly in the eyes and cuts him off. “I practiced this for an hour, you will shut your mouth and listen until I’m done, okay?”

Bobby nods. Alex exhales, starts drumming his fingers on his thighs and nods.

“Okay, look. I know you don’t perceive yourself until it’s negative, and that’s fine, and maybe not a mentally healthy way to deal with shit, my therapist would probably cry if I told her you’re like this, but that doesn’t mean we don’t perceive you. We know you, really well, and so you might not realize it, because you don’t realize we actually do know you exist and that we care about you, but we notice when you change, okay? We realized that you seem to be getting uncomfortable with us touching you sometimes, and since we know you keep all your feelings locked in a little box inside another box inside another box, and a few more of that, we also know that you’re probably not really comfortable with talking about it.”

Alex rattles on, his voice sounding strained, and he takes a deep breath, before going on.

“So we - I- don’t want you to tell me why you dislike it, because I don’t tell you guys why I’m anxious, or need a day alone, you just know that things are that way and that’s fine, and you leave me to it. Don’t you think that if you just say you don’t wanna be touched until you do again, we won’t respect that? We might all be stupid, but we’re not stupid enough to ignore you feeling uncomfortable, okay? I’m done now, so.” 

Alex trails off, biting down on his lip and avoiding Bobby’s eyes.

“I hate you for making me feel things,” Bobby says after a minute of silence. His chest is warm again, and Alex snorts. “Sucks to be you, Gänseblümchen. Gotta deal with it once in a while.”

“And, just so you know. All of what you’re feeling is totally valid, yeah? Don’t feel weird about it just because we keep cuddling all the time, and media portrays kissing on the lips as the ultimate show of affection, when I tell you that Willie kissing my collar bone made me cry the first time, I mean it. And I love you.”

Bobby tenses up, because oh god, is this where this is going? Is he going to have to realize he’s actually been in love with his friends all this time and that he doesn’t actually know what friendship is because his brain hasn’t caught up, and he doesn’t know how emotions work?

Alex can apparently see the slight panic on his face, and raises his eyebrows in question. “Come on, dude, we’ve been friends for 15 years, you can’t tell me that you’re surprised I say I love you every time.”

“I-,” Bobby could scream right now. “I’m such an idiot, holy fuck!”

Alex looks confused and leans forward, as if that is going to help him understand what’s going on. “Okay?”

Of course it’s platonic love. Jesus fucking Christ, of course he loves his friends. But in a way that’s not as it is with Reggie. The revelation shouldn’t be as big as it is, and he definitely can’t tell anyone that he’s had it but-

“Wait. You fucking idiot gremlin. Please don’t tell me you thought I meant this romantically,” Alex groans. Bobby ducks his head into his hands and lets out a slightly hysterical giggle. “I fucking hate you, so, so much,” Alex says.

“I’m sorry, okay!? My chest gets all warm and fuzzy when you guys are nice to me and I usually only have that with Reggie, so I thought, you know…”

“You’re so fucking stupid, I love you so much, du absoluter Vollpfosten.”

“I love you too, but jesus christ, please never do this emotional shit with me again, it’s weird enough coming from other people, but I was there when you thought Willie was only holding your hand and walking you home from dates to be nice, instead of liking you romantically, so being emotionally perceptive is weird as fuck coming from you,” Bobby reaches out to lightly shove at Alex, who laughs and shoves back. “Sucks to suck, Bobston, I’ll do whatever I want.”

“Also I know you’re gonna want to bury your feelings and not feel anything again, but at least tell Reg about your boundaries and touch aversion sometime soon.”

Bobby sighs. “He probably thinks he’s done something wrong, doesn’t he?”

Alex sobers up a little, and brushes his hair out of his face. “I mean, he kinda has an inkling what’s up, but it’d help if you clarified.”

Bobby groans again. “Why do you all have to be aware of your own feelings?”

“Because not everyone is like you, Bob der Baumeister, get over it, we love you anyway.”

Bobby nods, and the warmth in his chest is still there and he loves his friends and he _loves_ Reggie, so he can do it. Also he’s gonna pay it back to Alex. “I love you too, and thank you,” he says, and Alex stops to stare at him, before pulling a face. “That was weird and disgusting, don’t do it again.”

But his tone is soft, and between the two of them, they’ve always been better at reading each other’s expressions, and Bobby feels comfortable enough again, so he leans his head against Alex's shoulder. They sit in silence again, soft, and warm, and comfortable silence. Then Bobby decides it’s been enough time of being nice to each other.

“So you wanna marry Willie, huh?”

And Alex immediately goes bright red. “Well…” his voice goes up, but there’s a disgustingly sappy smile on his face. “Maybe.”

“You are disgusting, I’ll have you know, now show me the engagement rings you’ve looked at, I gotta bully you until we find the perfect one.”

___

  
Bobby takes some time to tell Reggie. He sent the rest of his friends a text, because emotional talks are hard and he does not have enough emotions available to do it more times than twice, so a text it is. Surprisingly, although it's not actually that surprising, they all react well, and since then it’s been a bit easier. Instead of just draping himself over Bobby in the morning Luke brings him a coffee and a raised eyebrow, and when he opens his arms Luke grins and flops down onto him, and when he doesn’t Luke knocks their shoulders together and grins and sits next to him. They all started to do little things to ask if he’s okay with being touched, and Bobby loves it. 

He’s always been a bit more of an ‘acts of service’ kinda guy, when it comes to expressing his love, and now that they’re all on the same page, or, most of them are, the others have taken up acts of service in return, to accommodate him. He still touches them plenty, they cuddle on the couch all the time, and squeeze together in cars, and hug, and give him kisses on the cheeks, but they also all step away the second he seems less comfortable.

Reggie gets swept up in it, and Reggie, dear, sweet, perceptive Reggie has also started doing things differently. Bobby feels kind of bad for not talking to him sooner, but turns out when you don’t really feel your emotions all that much it’s also kind of hard to sort through them enough to make a coherent sentence for Reggie.

Bobby decides to just go for it when he’s drunk, once again, because being drunk makes feeling easier. They’ve been drinking, and it’s the middle of the night, and Reggie and him have finally crawled into bed, and are tangled together under the sheets. Reggie keeps drawing stuff he can’t decipher on Bobby’s back, and is softly singing some country song against the top of head, into his hair. And honestly, he thinks its easier to talk about not wanting to be touched sometimes, when he’s currently extremely comfortable cuddling with Reggie.

“Hey, Reg, I gotta talk to you,” he says, quietly. Reggie’s fingers falter for a second, before he continues, but he stops singing. “Hm?”

“I mean, you probably realized this already, because you’re all smart and perceptive and more in tune with your emotions than I am, but I wanted to tell you anyway. Also please just acknowledge it if it’s okay, because this is uncomfortable for me.”

Reggie hums again, looking at him, the blue of his eyes glinting like refined sapphires in the streetlight that filters in through the window. His hair is a mess, and there’s still smudged black around his eyes from badly removed eyeliner, and the rest of his red lipstick still colours his lips. He’s rarely looked more beautiful.

“I don’t love kissing on the lips. I kinda hate it actually, but you like it, and sometimes it’s okay, when it’s just a peck, but I just… don’t see the appeal of it. And sometimes touching gets too much and I don’t like holding hands all that much either, because it always gets sweaty, and sometimes I don’t want to be touched by anyone, not even you, because it just… it feels like too much, and I just need to be by myself for a while? And I want you to know that I’m not mad at you if I don’t kiss you, or touch you, I’m just. Not comfortable. Yeah.”

“Oh, _sweetheart_ ,” Reggie sighs, a soft smile spreading over his lips, lighting up his face. “I kinda knew something was up, and I’m glad you told me. Of course that’s okay, we can figure things out together, yeah? And lip tango is overrated anyway, so, y’know. We’re good.”

Bobby snorts. “Why do you have to put it that way?”

“Because you’re an emotionally stunted goblin, whom I love, by the way, a lot. And you get uncomfortable with being emotionally honest, so. I make jokes. And I promise this is the last I’ll speak of it, but thank you for telling me, and you’re very valid in all your feelings, now go back to being repressed.” Reggie grins, and tugs at Bobby’s hair a bit.

“I love you too, by the way,” he says, and kisses Reggie’s shoulder. Reggie smiles and starts playing with the hair at the base of his neck. “I know.”

___

  
They do figure things out, slowly. Reggie takes to kissing his jaw, and his shoulder, his forehead when he’s sitting, his palm and his knuckles, the tips of his fingers at times, and always smiles when Bobby kisses him back on the same spots. He starts linking only one finger with Bobby’s, instead of taking his whole hand. 

And Bobby feels more comfortable now, because he knows he can just get up and out of the cuddle pile they’re in, and they all just continue like normal. Their dynamic changes again, just a bit, to accomodate Bobby the way they did back when Alex’s anxiety started really developing, and it makes him happy. And warm. And soft. 

And he still doesn’t really feel feelings or have it as easy as the others do with saying how he feels, and it still takes some courage to get up and into his own space, but, well. It’s a start, and they all smile at him, oddly proud, when he does, and he knows that with them he at least doesn’t have to pretend. They all love him anyway, and he loves them back, even if he doesn’t always have the ability to acknowledge it. And that’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> all Alex does is insult Bobby except with 'Gänseblümchen', which means daisy in german, and is something Bobby does not know how to spell so he can't google it to look up its meaning. RIP Bobby, called a sweet pet name by his best friend without him knowing.  
> You can find Meg [here](https://a-tomb-with-a-view.tumblr.com/), I definitely highly recommend checking all their stuff out if you haven't already, she's fucking awesome.  
> if you feel like talking/yelling, about jatp or in just general, you can find me on tumblr as [on-irratia](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/on-irratia)  
> have a good day/ night/ rest of time! :D


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